All the More Sweeter
by evuchetich
Summary: What if Catherine had told Vincent she was pregnant? What if Joe never got her involved with "the book?" This is what I think happens with a little bit from "Remember Love" thrown in for good measure. Won't have too much angst, just pure romantic fluff!
1. Chapter 1

All the More Sweeter

Chapter 1

Vincent was sitting at his table, writing in his journal. His hair fell forward over his face, which was concealed in the shadows from the candlelight. "There was a time when I would have felt you coming; felt the warmth from your heart as you came nearer to me. Now, I must sit and wait for a messenger who tells me you are on your way." Vincent tossed down his pen and turned his face away from Catherine silhouetted in the door of his chamber. Silently, she went to him and turned his face to hers. She lifted his chin so she could meet his eyes.

"Vincent, our Bond is a wonderful thing. But, it is only one gift that has come from our love. There are so many others. And you deserve every one of them." He stood abruptly and walked to the other end of the chamber. He stared unseeing at the bookcase. "All you have to do is open your arms and accept them." She walked slowly to him and touched his shoulder gently. "Open your arms, Vincent."

He sighed deeply and bit back a sob. Since he had awakened just over two weeks ago after nearly three weeks of a restorative coma, it seemed that all he did was cry or want to. He still felt so weak and his memory was awful. Everything was so confused. He was so confused, he hurt so much and the only thing that made him feel better was standing quietly behind him, waiting patiently, loving him. How did he deserve her? He turned and hunched his shoulders, lifting his arms a little. "Catherine," he whispered. She stepped closer and snuggled into his broad chest. Her arms snaked around his waist and held him tightly. "Such a gift, my sweet Catherine."

"Yes," she murmured looking up at him. She lifted her hand and traced the tear running down his cheek. "Such a gift." She settled her head again upon his shoulder.

After a few moments, he whispered into her hair. "My apologies. I must sit."

"Of course," she said and stepped away, guiding him to his vacated chair where he sat heavily. "You are still weak, Vincent. I forget. I'm sorry."

"It is of no matter. I will soon recover. If not you, then Father will see to that." He reached for her hand. "You had something to tell me?"

She took his hand and moved closer, putting her other arm around his neck and laying her cheek against his head. "I do. I hardly know where to begin."

"Like any good storyteller, begin at the beginning." They both smiled.

Catherine took a deep breath and began to speak into his golden mane of hair. "I received some news today. Something that I've wanted in the deepest part of my heart, but hardly ever dreamed of. Something I never thought could ever happen."

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, Vincent." She walked around to face him and cupped his face with her hands. "I'm going to have a baby." She watched as if in slow-motion as his eyes lit up and then his face fell.

"Congratulations," he said shortly, looking down at his hands clenched in his lap. He wanted to jump up, roar, run – but he was still too weak.

Immediately, Catherine recognized what he was thinking. "Vincent. Oh, no. No, Vincent. This is another gift of our love. It is my gift to you."

"How?"

She drew his head to her again, pressing his ear to her chest, to her heart. She began to speak and slowly, listening to the familiar sound of her heartbeat, he heard her words and knew they were the truth.

"I know you don't remember anything from that night in the cave. You had taken your leave of the others, but Father and I were still Above. When we came to your chamber, you were already gone. Mouse and Pascal had followed you. Everyone was worried. Pascal came back to find me and Father – he took us to you. We could hear you, in the dark. You were in such pain, believing Paracelsus's lies. Father and Pascal both tried to stop me, but you needed me. And I needed you." She paused and brushed the tears from her eyes. She could still hear the growls and roars coming from that cave in the dark.

He tightened his arm around her waist and pressed hisear tighter to her breast. "Were you afraid? I'm sorry. I - "

"No!" she said firmly. "I wasn't afraid. You needed me. You were in such pain." She kissed the top of his head. "I walked in and I could feel and hear that your pain changed to fear. You didn't know me at first. You ran at me, raised your arm. I screamed your name and you stopped. You looked at me. You saw me. And then, you collapsed.

"I fell with you. I landed with my head on your chest. I could hear...nothing. I felt...nothing. I became desperate." She gasped a little at the memory of his strong chest, silent. "I told you – I told you, 'Not without me.' Then I did the only thing I could."

He raised his head and looked up at her. "What did you do, Catherine?"

"I kissed you Vincent." She stared down into his blue eyes. "I kissed you the way I've wanted to kiss you for more than two years. I kissed you the way a woman kisses a man she so passionately loves."

"Catherine."

She took his hand and pressed it to her abdomen. "We loved, Vincent. There is a child."

Chapter 2

Vincent strode into Father's chamber and paced around the stacks of books. "I must speak to you."

"What is it, Vincent?" Father put down the book he was reading and looked at his son, concerned at his state.

"I know now that it was Paracelsus here – he told me things, many things that I now believe were lies. But I must be certain."

"What do you want to know?" Vincent stopped and looked at his Father.

"You'll tell me?"

"Anything."

Vincent sank into a chair and looked at the ceiling of the chamber. "When he was here, when I believed he was you, he told me of my birth."

"Yes."

"He said that Anna Pater was my natural mother. That her husband conceived me using medical experiments. That I was not born. I ripped my way out of her body and killed her. I was born of blood."

"Vincent, every child is born of blood, in one way or another. But that is beside the point. None of that is true."

"What is true?"

"Anna did conceive once, but she miscarried at three months. After her recovery, she was walking the streets at night and heard a mewing sound in the dumpster behind St. Vincent's hospital. She found you."

Vincent looked at Father.

"She brought you to me and we cared for you together. She kept you in her chamber. She loved you from the first. She wanted a child so badly." Father levered himself out of his chair and began to pace himself. "It was then that John began to change. He began to view you as his and began to make plans for you; plans that turned my blood cold. And Anna's. She gave you back to me. She didn't think it was helping John to have you there. Even then, she still loved him." Father stopped his pacing and looked at Vincent. "He poisoned her in a glass of wine. Her death was ugly, but she still proclaimed her love for him, until she finally died."

"That is why..."

"Why we exiled him. Yes." Father sank back into his chair.

"I see."

Father leaned over the table and reached his hand towards his son. "He wanted you. He said you were his. I said, no. You were Anna's, if you were anyone's, and she had left you to me. That is why he hated me. He wanted to turn you into – I don't know what and he's hated me for preventing that."

Vincent stood and walked slowly to a pile of books over Father's desk and stared at them blankly. "So then, I did not kill my mother."

"Vincent, I have no idea. I don't know who or what your natural mother was. I only know you."

"So, it is possible."

"What is possible?"

Vincent turned and went to Father. He looked down at him and clasped both of his shoulders. "Catherine is with child, Father. My child."

"What? How can this - ? I mean, I had no idea..."

"Neither do I. I have no memory. She says it happened that night, in the cave."

"Dear God!"

"I know." They both stared at each other in silence until Vincent clenched Father's shoulders a bit tighter. "Father. We need you. We need help. We don't know what to do."

Catherine sat on Vincent's bed, tapping her foot and clasping and unclasping her hands. She worried what Father would say, but had to agree with Vincent's suggestion that they ask him for help. She hadn't thought any further than telling Vincent. She had come directly from the hospital. She never wanted to go Above again.

She started up as the two men entered the chamber. Vincent lowered the tapestry that hung over the doorway. He had never done that before.

"If we keep our voices low, we can be assured of our privacy, Catherine," Father said.

She nodded looking at him. Vincent came around and stood next to her. Father looked from one to the other. Finally, he moved and embraced her. "Oh, my dear girl!"

She returned his embrace and laughed in relief, smiling at Vincent. He smiled back. Father released her and turned to Vincent. "There is much to discuss."

Vincent pulled his table closer to the bed and guided his father to the chair. He and Catherine sat on the edge of the bed. He couldn't help touching her. Father drew a sheet of paper towards him and uncapped Vincent's pen. "We must plan."

"Plan?" Catherine asked.

"Yes. So many things. I don't know where to begin."

"I want her to come Below."

"I want to live Below." Vincent and Catherine spoke together.

"Are you sure?" Father asked.

"Yes," Catherine said, looking at Vincent. "My work seems meaningless, all my friendships pale in comparison to my life here."

"You do bring us a lot as a Helper, Catherine," Vincent reminded her.

"My heart is in these tunnels and chambers, Vincent. Please."

"What about your work? You do important things."

"For every criminal I put in jail, there are ten more files on my desk waiting. It never ends. I want to raise our baby in a peaceful world."

"Well, I agree," Father said interrupting the lover's quarrel.

"What?" Vincent was astounded.

"Think of the baby, Vincent. It should not be born Above. It may not be able to live Above. Catherine should be here, where it is safe."

"Yes, I agree. I cannot feel her as I once did. I would feel more at ease if she was nearby. I just did not expect you to agree to have her here."

"Catherine is a daughter to me. Especially now."

"Thank-you, Father." Catherine squeezed his hand.

Catherine stayed below for several hours, planning with Father and Vincent, talking over ideas. Then, reluctantly, she went back home. Vincent did not accompany her, she wanted him to stay Below where he was safe. He was still weak and had not ventured Above as yet. She carried a list in Father's meticulous handwriting of things to do. First and foremost, she was to contact Dr. Peter Alcott for an appointment. Secondly, she had to quit her job.

She stood on the balcony, Vincent's balcony as she thought of it, cupping her hands around her tea and looked at the city lights. Would she miss this? Would she miss staring into the night? She would miss the times she had been here with Vincent, that was for sure. But, Below, there were so many other beautiful places and she would be with him, always. She could watch over him and care for him, the way he had her these past two years. He seemed so delicate to her now, since his illness. She felt like she had to constantly reassure him of her love, since the Bond had been broken, and hadn't liked to be away. Father had finally sent her away several times while he was in the coma, rightfully stating that there was nothing she could do for him when he was unconscious and that she needed to go back so her boss and friends Above did not worry.

She sighed and finished her tea and thought over the things she needed to do the next day. She went back inside and closed the doors. Her appointment with Peter was at 10:00. She decided to stay home and write her letter of resignation. After the appointment, she would go in to the office and look over her files and begin to tie up loose ends. At the end of the day, she would tell Joe and give her letter to Moreno. Then, she would go Below for dinner and Vincent. She laid down and hugged her pillow, looking out the window. "A few days, Vincent," she thought. "A few more days and then I can be with you."

Chapter 3

When Vincent awoke that morning, he realized it was late. His tapestry was drawn and the usual noises of the Tunnels seemed muffled. He stiffly arose from the bed and began to dress. He felt cold and threw his cloak over his shoulders as he left his chamber, in search of Father and breakfast. Father's study was empty as was the dining chamber, but he found William in his kitchen.

"Well hello, lazy-bones!" William greeted him jovially.

"Is it really that late?" Vincent wrinkled his brow.

"You needed it," William said, handing Vincent a cup of tea. "Hungry?"

Vincent rubbed his free hand over his eyes and forehead. "Yes."

"Excellent!" William directed his friend to a chair at a table in the corner. He pushed aside some vegetables and brought over some oatmeal he had left warming on the back of the stove. William chatted as Vincent ate. He began to feel better and warmer. He was about to respond to something William had said, when he suddenly felt a strange but familiar feeling.

His silence lasted as he looked over William's head at the wall. "Vincent?" William asked. "Are you all right?"

"Hmm?" Vincent asked. "I'm not sure. Have you seen Father?"

"He was going to the outer tunnels to check on the new chambers Kanin and Mouse were working on."

"Thank-you. And thank-you for the late breakfast."

"Any time, old friend. I hope to see you better soon."

Vincent nodded and left the kitchen. "Catherine?" he whispered.

Catherine waited nervously in the exam room in her paper gown. She should have spoken to Peter privately, but she also needed his medical expertise and thought the office was the best place. His nurse had been able to get her in the next day, which was amazing, but he must have left word with his staff that she was a special patient. She had actually never seen him as a patient before. He had delivered her and cared for her mother, but up until now, Catherine had seen a female gynecologist. Seeing Peter was just too weird. He was a friend of the family. Now, that friendship may be crucial to the safety of Vincent and all who lived Below.

A brief knock came to the door and Peter came in. "Cathy! What a surprise! How are you, my dear?" He took her hand and kissed her cheek before sitting on the rolling "doctor" stool. "I've never seen you as a patient. Are you well?"

"Oh, Peter. I just had to see you."

"What is it?"

"I'm pregnant."

Peter sat up as his eyes widened. He then slumped a little. "Does Vincent...?"

"The child is Vincent's."

Peter's brow furrowed. "Maybe we should start at the beginning."

Catherine explained in minimal detail what had happened in the cave. "I went in yesterday to give blood, like I do every other month. They did the initial tests and the nurse came out and said I couldn't donate. I was pregnant. I went Below to tell Vincent and he told Father. We decided I should come to you."

"Oh, my Cathy. That is...That is amazing. And you were right to come to me. Any other doctor..."

"Would want to meet Vincent. Father thought that if there were..."

"Any abnormalities?"

"Yes. Then you would be the best doctor for me to go to."

"All right, then Cathy. Let's do this like any other pregnancy. I'll need a complete history and we'll do a physical. Then, I usually do an ultrasound to be certain of dates and to be sure it is a single pregnancy."

"All right."

Cathy laid back on the table. The history and physical were done and now Peter wheeled in an ultrasound machine. "No, I'm fine, Brenda. I'll call if I need you." He turned to Catherine. "Usually Brenda assists me, but just in case, I'll do this myself."

"Okay, Peter," she said quietly.

Peter squirted the warm blue gel on Catherine's lower abdomen and began guiding the wand over it. The black screen turned into a series of grey fuzzy images. "Where are you, little one?" Peter murmured as he worked. Suddenly the fuzzy images seemed to coalesce into a small moving blob. "Ah, ha! Hello." Peter pushed a few buttons and focused the image. "There it is, Cathy! There's your baby."

Catherine stared, entranced at the foreign image on the screen. "What is that, wiggling in the middle?"

"That's its heart, honey. Nice and strong." Peter moved the wand and the image disappeared.

"Oh, where'd he go?!"

"He's still there. I just want to check a few things. Then, we'll go back."

"Okay." Catherine was still staring at the screen as Peter moved the wand around her abdomen and pushed buttons on the machine. Then, he returned to the baby.

"There, Cathy." He stayed on the baby, making measurements and then he clicked on one last button. A drumbeat filled the air. "The baby's heartbeat." They listened to it for a few minutes, then Peter pressed another button and some paper came out of the bottom of the ultrasound machine.

"Oh, Peter," Catherine whispered.

"Pretty amazing, huh honey?"

"Oh, yeah." Catherine wiped a tear from her eye. "I wish Vincent could see this."

Peter smiled and handed her the picture that had printed. "Baby's first portrait."

Catherine cradled the picture as Peter wiped the excess gel from her belly. "I'll let you get dressed. Then, we need to talk."

"Okay," she said softly smiling at the picture of her baby.

Chapter 4

"I don't know what it is, Father. It isn't what I felt with Catherine. It is less intense than our Bond. But I know it is important."

"Perhaps it is your Bond returning?"

"Perhaps."

"You may know more when you see Catherine again."

"Perhaps."

Father shook his head at his son. "You are still weak, Vincent. You should rest."

"Perhaps." Vincent suddenly stood and left the unfinished chamber. He began to meander down the tunnel back to the main chambers.

"Rest, Vincent!" Father called after him.

"Perhaps," Vincent mumbled.

Catherine was still in a bit of a daze herself as she entered the Manhattan's District Attorney's office. Tucked in her purse was the picture of her child, right next to her resignation letter. To Moreno, she was short and sweet. She offered two weeks notice, resolving to tie up any loose ends she had and fully brief anyone who would be taking over her cases. But, Joe would need a lot of explanations. She vowed to be as truthful as she could.

She wandered over to her desk and put her coat and purse away. She sighed as she reached for the stack of files on her desk. There was a lot to do, but immersing herself in the work would help pass the time until she could go Below tonight.

After a few hours, she pushed back her chair and pulled her hair back from her face. She looked around the office. The light was fading from the windows and people were starting to leave. She knew what she had to do, but it didn't make it any easier. Taking the ultrasound picture and her letter, she moved towards Joe's office.

She tapped on the door and stuck her head in. "Have a minute?"

"Sure, Radcliffe. What's up?"

Catherine came in to the office and closed the door behind her. "I need to talk to you, Joe." She sat on the couch across from his desk.

"Why do I not like this?"

"Joe," she smiled. "Joe," she whispered.

"What is it, Cathy?"

"You've been such a good friend to me, so much more than a boss." Catherine sighed and looked up at him as he loomed over her, leaning against his desk. She handed him the letter.

He glanced through it slowly. "What? You have to be kidding me!"

"No, Joe. I'm leaving the District Attorney's Office."

"Why?"

She handed him the ultrasound picture.

"What is this?" He turned it upside down and sideways trying to make sense of it.

"My baby."

"Your - ? Your baby? Cathy?"

"I'm having a baby."

"Cathy! That's amazing! Congratulations." He pulled her up into a hug that she gratefully sank into. "But that doesn't mean you have to quit."

"I know, Joe. I know. But, it is something I've been thinking about ever since my father died. Finding out about the baby just gave me the final push."

"Oh, God. You aren't going back to corporate law, are you?"

Catherine laughed. "Oh, no. Don't worry. I'm not sure yet what I'll do, but I'm sure its not that. I want to take some time and think."

Joe looked at her. "You've done good work, here, Cathy."

"I know. And I've learned a lot. I'll always be grateful, Joe."

"I'm the one who's grateful," he said. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

"Hmm?"

He held up the picture. "The daddy?"

"Oh," she laughed again. "His name is Vincent."

"Have you been seeing him for awhile? Why haven't I heard his name before?"

"Because you prefer to talk about you!"

They laughed together. Then, Joe became quiet. "Is he good to you?"

"Oh, yes, Joe. I love him and he loves me. This baby is..." She bit her lip, looking for the word. "The baby is a little unexpected, but will be so loved. And Vincent...He's my life, Joe."

"Well," Joe looked at her a few more moments. "Okay, then Radcliffe. But if he ever hurts you..."

"You'll be the first to know." She hugged him again.

"So, you want me to tell Moreno?"

"Thanks, but no. I'll do it. I may just sneak in and drop off the letter and deal with him in the morning."

Joe handed her the letter and the picture back.

"So, I get you for two more weeks?"

"Yes you do and don't you even think about it!"

"Think about what, Radcliffe?" he asked in mock innocence. He opened the door for her.

"Thanks, Joe." She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Good-night, Cathy." He watched as she made her way back to her desk and gathered up her things. She stopped at the DA's private office and gave her letter to his secretary. Then, without a look back, she left the office. "Oh, Cathy," sighed Joe and went back to his desk.

Chapter 5

Vincent was waiting for her near the Central Park entrance to the Tunnels. Silently, he embraced her in a soul-encompassing hug. She clung to him, not knowing she needed to be held until he opened his arms to her. She breathed in the smell of candle smoke and dampness that clung to his clothes and the deeper, earthier musky scent that was just him. He buried his face in her neck and hair and held her.

She pulled away a little to look at his face. "How did you know I'd come this way?"

"Honestly, I guessed. I didn't think you'd go back home before you came Below. I knew this would be a hard day for you and imagined you'd want to come here as soon as possible. Also..." he paused, unsure.

"What is it, Vincent?" she looked at him, immediately concerned.

"I felt something."

"Has our Bond returned?"

"No, I do not believe so. It doesn't feel the same and now that you're here I'm sure of that. But, it does feel stronger now that I am close to you." He pulled her close to him again. "I am glad you're here."

"Me too. But, Vincent," she said.

"Hmm?"

"I'm tired. Can we go Below?"

"Of course." He let her go but kept her hand in his and led her into the tunnel. They walked in silence down deeper into the earth.

In unspoken agreement, they went to Vincent's chamber. She sat on his bed and removed her shoes. She laid back against the pillows. She sighed in comfort. "That was a lot of walking today."

"Where did you go?"

"First, I went to Peter's office."

"What did he say?"

"He said that everything looks fine. Oh, and Vincent," she said, taking up her purse and pulling out the picture. "He did an ultrasound. This is our baby."

Vincent took the picture carefully and squinted at it in the dim candle light.

"The dark part, in the center? I could see the heart beating."

He looked up at her. Her eyes were shining. "And the sound of it, Vincent, was sweeter than any music I have ever heard."

"I wish I could hear it."

"Perhaps you can."

"How, Catherine? I cannot go up there."

"No, but your ears are much more sensitive than mine." She reached out to him as he knelt next to the bed. She shifted her clothing and bared her belly to him. His eyes met hers in amazement, but she merely smiled and guided his head so his ear was against her bare skin. He pressed his ear to her flesh and went still.

He could hear the small noises of her stomach and a slow steady swish of the her blood flowing through her aorta. He pressed a bit tighter. Quieter, but insistant, beneath all the other sounds, he could hear a beating, faster than her heartbeat, nearly a buzz in his ear: the heartbeat of Catherine's child, of his child. He listened, enamored of that tiny buzz and suddenly realized what he had been feeling all day. The sense he was having was of the baby. Vincent silently began to cry, his tears flowing over his flat nose and hairy cheeks, on to Catherine's smooth skin. She laid her head back on the pillows and stroked his hair softly. Neither knew how long they stayed like that.

Father had worried since Vincent had left him earlier in the day, mumbling, "Perhaps," and wandering seemingly aimlessly away. He had not seen him at dinner and he wondered what was going through his son's head. He had seemed so altered since he had awakened those two weeks ago, confused and not himself. He decided he needed to talk to him.

Father hobbled down the hallway to Vincent's chamber, leaning heavily on his crutch. When he came to the doorway, the image the met him, seared itself on his heart and stayed with him for the rest of his life. His son, his Vincent, of whom he had to abandon so many hopes and yet support and encourage, was kneeling next to his bed. Catherine was asleep against the pillows and Vincent held one hand to her abdomen and with the other, was gently stroking her hair and her cheek.

"Vincent," Father whispered.

Vincent turned slowly and smiled one of his rare fully smiles, exposing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. "Oh, Father," he whispered back. "It is the baby."

"What?" Father asked.

"What I've been feeling today. It is the baby. I can hear it's heartbeat."

At their voices, Catherine stirred. "Vincent?" she murmured.

"Yes."

She opened her eyes and stretched and then sat up as her eyes landed on Father's stooped figure standing in the doorway. "Hello, Father."

"Hello. Sleepy?" He smiled indulgently at her.

"Yes, more than usual. Is that normal?"

"Oh, yes. Quite. You'll get your energy back as you enter your second trimester. I have a book..."

"Peter recommended one today. I'll begin reading it soon. He did an ultrasound. Did Vincent show you?"

"No, let me see." Vincent stood aside as Catherine got up and brought the picture to Father.

"That is the head," she pointed. "And that is the heart. I could hear it. Vincent can hear it with just his ear." She smiled up at him.

"Catherine, I meant to tell you before you fell asleep."

"What?"

"I can hear the baby everywhere. I can hear the heartbeat of the child, even when you are Above. I just didn't know what it was."

"Do you think our Bond has shifted to the baby?"

"Perhaps."

"Vincent." They turned to Father. "You told me that your Bond with Catherine was like hearing her heart beat."

Vincent nodded. "I wonder, if you can still hear her heart beat, but if it is muffled by the sound of the baby."

Vincent cocked his head to the side, considering. "What do you mean?"

"Here, sit down." Vincent sat in his chair. "Come, my dear," Father said to Catherine, guiding her next to him. "Listen to her heart, Vincent." Catherine opened her arms and guided his shaggy head to her chest. He nestled his head between her breasts somewhat self-consciously. "Listen. Hear her heartbeat. Concentrate on that." Catherine held him and stroked his hair gently. The three were silent for a few minutes. "Now," Father took Catherine by the crook of the elbow and pulled her a step away. "Can you still hear her?"

Vincent closed his eyes and concentrated his hearing. He could still hear her slower, steadier heartbeat. Beneath it was the faster buzz of the baby. "Yes. I hear both of them."

Catherine stepped backwards again. "Now?" she asked.

"Yes."

She walked backwards several more steps into the doorway. "Now?"

"Yes!" Vincent opened his eyes widely and stood.

"Go to my library," Father said.

Catherine smiled back and wiped a tear away from her cheek. Then, without a word, she turned and disappeared down the tunnel hallway.

"Now?" asked Father.

"Yes, I still hear her. I hear them both. Father, what happened?"

Father sat heavily in Vincent's recently vacated chair. "I believe that your...illness had a greater effect on you than either of us realized. All of your goodness, peacefulness, all your humanity, if you will, was obliterated by the darkness. Paracelsus used you. He wanted your darker tendancies to emerge. I'm sure he did not intend for you to kill him, but for you to kill for him. He expected to control you and your darker nature. When he died, and the darkness was released, it was chaos. And you forgot everything else in your struggle. Only Catherine and her great love for you could pull you from the darkness."

"Then why did I not know her when I awakened? Why could I not feel her?"

"You are still recovering, my son. And the child has masked things, changed things."

Vincent put his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. "It is so much more than my strength that is gone."

"More than your physical strength," Father amended. "Your emotions must be in turmoil. And your empathic abilities – I've never seen their like and have no idea how to help you with that."

Suddenly, Vincent's head came up. "What is it, Vincent?"

"Catherine." Vincent left Father and raced to the library.

Chapter 6

Catherine had entered the library with a wide smile on her face to find Mary knitting in Father's favorite chair. "Hello, dear," she had said. "You look happy."

"Yes," Catherine replied sitting near her. "Father is working with Vincent. I think our Bond is coming back."

"Oh, that is wonderful. Do either of them know what happened?"

"Did Father tell you about...?"

"The baby? Yes. I hope that is all right. I'm so happy for you both."

"Thank-you. Well, Vincent could hear the baby and Father thinks it may have masked our Bond. He is working on concentrating on me and now he can hear us both."

"I see." Mary put her work down on the table. "You know, Father and I often discussed Vincent. He was a boy of ten when I came to the tunnels, but I often think of him as a son. We all raised him, with Father, of course."

"Yes."

"He is such a good boy and has grown into such a strong man. We wanted the world for him – happiness, love, children of his own – but we were never sure what could be. Father often cautioned him. He worried so. If Vincent was caught Above, what would be done to him, what would happen to our world? We were never quite sure of what the possibilities could be for him and Father despaired of raising his hopes too high."

"He never wanted him to be disappointed or unhappy."

"Yes, but I always wondered what it would do to his self-image, his self-esteem by placing all those limitations on him. He was always a shy boy."

"I know. He always downplays his feelings in favor of mine. He never thinks he is good enough for me. I'm the one that isn't good enough for him!"

Mary laughed. "Oh, you two are a pair! You'll do just fine once you stop thinking of yourselves as two people, but one soul."

"Mary, you are so - " Catherine suddenly turned pale and stood up with her hands to her mouth. "Mary, where can I - ?

Mary, ever the midwife, dumped out some fruit that was on a bowl on the table. She stood and quickly went to Catherine, who knelt to the floor and vomited violently into the bowl that Mary held for her. It was to this that Vincent entered. He quickly knelt near Catherine and supported her heaving body in his arms. Father hurried in breathlessly just as Catherine was wiping her mouth on the back of her hand and Mary was moving away with the bowl.

"Father," Vincent was about to ask when Mary and Father made eye contact over the couple on the floor.

"She needs to eat," Father said.

"Of course," Mary replied. "Catherine, when did you last eat anything?"

"Lunch time, I suppose." Catherine used Vincent's arm to stand and he moved her to the chair she had left abruptly.

"I'll take care of this and get her some bread and some tea."

"Mary!" Catherine called weakly. "I couldn't possibly! "

"You need to dear. I'll explain in a moment." Mary hurried away.

Father moved to the table and began to peel a banana. "My fruit bowl, Catherine?"

She merely shrugged and leaned back in the chair.

"What is going on, Father?" demanded Vincent incredulous that the others were taking Catherine's illness so matter-of-factly.

"Morning sickness," Father said, handing the banana to Catherine. She looked at him. "Just a small bite, dear. It will help."

"It is nearly 9:00 at night," snapped Vincent.

Mary entered quietly behind him. She brought a tray to Catherine with some bread, cheese and a teapot. "It is called 'morning sickness' because that is when one's stomach is typically empty. You see, the hormones that help sustain the pregnancy until the placenta is fully formed often cause nausea. It helps if one takes small meals and snacks. It seems odd to eat when you feel so nauseated, but it does help. Here." Mary gave Catherine a slice of bread.

"Sorry, Father, the bread sounds better." Catherine smiled weakly.

"It seems, Vincent, that you both have some reading to do." Father smiled at his confused son and took a bite of the banana.

Catherine and Vincent were arguing quietly on their way back to his chamber. "Vincent, you've done more today than you've done in weeks. You need to rest. You certainly have no business traipsing up Above again. You should go to bed."

"I cannot let you go Above alone. Not after what happened tonight."

"What happened? I threw up. Vincent, pregnant women throw up all the time. And now, I feel fine."

"I worry when you are not near. Our Bond is not what it once was."

"All I'm going to do is go home and go to bed. I'll be fine."

"I want you to go through the park. I don't want you climbing that ladder."

"I climbed it last night."

"But last night - "

"I was pregnant last night too."

"You were ill tonight. I don't want you to fall."

"What if someone walks with me?"

"You won't let me."

"Someone else. Like Mouse. One of the children? Or Jamie?"

Vincent stopped outside the door to his chamber and tapped out a message on the pipe that ran back down the hallway. Catherine went inside and gathered up her coat and purse. Vincent followed her in and embraced her.

"I'm sorry, Catherine. My mind has been a jumble these last days."

"I know. Mine has too. We need to take some time to just talk and sort things out."

"Yes."

"I gave Joe two weeks notice. After that, I'm as free as a bird. You'll be stronger then too. Be patient."

"All right."

Jamie entered the chamber. "Did you need me, Vincent?"

"Yes." Vincent released Catherine and turned to his friend. "Will you accompany Catherine back home? She has forbidden me to leave my chamber."

"Well, I agree. You don't want a relapse!" Jamie and Catherine both laughed at the look on Vincent's face.

"I'll be fine." Catherine turned back to Vincent. She pulled his face down to her and kissed his cheek. "You're cute when you worry."

"Be well, Catherine."

"And you." She squeezed his shoulders and turned to Jamie. "I'm ready."

"I'll come back and let you know she's safe, Vincent."

"Thank-you, Jamie."

Chapter 7

Catherine's two weeks of work passed quickly. She attended one last deposition and wrote up summaries of all her cases. She and Joe went through and distributed them among the other associate DA's. On her last day, the office threw a little farewell party with cake and punch. John Moreno, the DA, approached her.

"So, who are we losing you to, Catherine?"

"No one yet. I haven't decided what I'm going to do. I think I'll take some time to think."

"Really?" He looked incredulous.

"Yeah, really," she said quietly without breaking eye contact.

"You're a good lawyer, an asset. Anywhere you go will be lucky to get you."

"Thanks, John. I learned a lot here. I appreciated the opportunity."

"Good luck." He shook her hand.

"Thank-you," she said. He walked back to his office and Joe approached her.

"How about dinner, Radcliffe?"

"Thanks, Joe, but I already have plans."

"Vincent?"

"Jealousy doesn't become you."

"You have to eat, kiddo."

"I know and I will. I just want to get home, with an empty briefcase for once!"

"Okay."

"I'll call you. I don't want to lose touch. You've been a good friend."

"You too. Good luck. And, good-night." Joe kissed her on the cheek and watched her walk away from the gathering. Other people shook her hand and hugged her. Eventually, she moved to her desk and gathered up the rest of her things. Joe realized that she was alone. She had done good work in the DA's office, but she never made anything personal. He was the one who was the closest to her and even he didn't know that much about her. She was pregnant, in a serious relationship, and he had just learned the guy's name when she gave her resignation. There was so much more to Cathy Chandler than she let on. He wondered if he had ever knew her at all.

Catherine arrived home just after dark. She tossed her briefcase and coat on the nearest sofa and went to the balcony doors. She opened them and let in the cold air. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. When she opened them, a beloved sight awaited her. Vincent stood just in the shadows holding two roses, one red and one white.

"Vincent," she breathed and went to his arms. He held her, as he had always done, cupping her head with one hand and holding her shoulders close with the other. She pulled back a bit and looked at him. "Are you well? Did you have any difficulties coming here?"

"I'm fine. My strength seems to return more and more every day. My memory is better. Our Bond..."

"Not fully returned?"

"No, but hearing your heartbeat and that of our child...It is enough."

She shivered in his arms. "Come inside. It is cold tonight." She turned and entered the apartment, but he didn't follow. "Vincent?"

"I just – It seems strange to come inside."

"You rarely did. We spent most of our time out here. The one time you did come in, you were very ill. Do you remember?"

"Bits and pieces. I remember you soothing me."

She smiled. "Come inside, Vincent. You've invited me into the tunnels, into your chamber. Come into my home. It is as much yours as mine anyway." She took his hand and again he stopped.

"How?"

"You are everything to me. Everything I have is due to you. Everything I have is yours."

Stunned a bit, he looked deep into her eyes, listened to her heartbeat and knew it was the truth. Knew it, because it was what he felt for her, about her. He squeezed her hand and stepped over the threshold, pulling the doors shut behind him.

Chapter 8

The two lovers reclined by the fire. Catherine had prepared a simple dinner for them and Vincent had eaten at her delicate dining table, relishing being loved by Catherine. She relished serving him, feeding him, caring for his basic needs. After the table was cleared and the dishes washed (he had rolled up his sleeves and washed while she dried,) they moved to the living room and curled up one of the sofas near the fire. Vincent read to her, in his soft melodious voice:

_Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs_

_About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,_

_The night above the dingle starry,_

_Time let me hail and climb_ _Golden in the heydays of his eyes,_

_And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns_

_And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves_

_Trail with daisies and barley_ _Down the rivers of the windfall light._

_And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns_

_About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,_

_In the sun that is young once only,_

_Time let me play and be _ _Golden in the mercy of his means,_

_And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves_

_Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,_

_And the sabbath rang slowly_ _In the pebbles of the holy streams._

_All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay_

_Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air_

_And playing, lovely and watery_

_And fire green as grass._

_And nightly under the simple stars_

_As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,_

_All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars_

_Flying with the ricks, and the horses_

_Flashing into the dark._

_And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white_

_With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all_

_Shining, it was Adam and maiden,_

_The sky gathered again_ _And the sun grew round that very day._

_So it must have been after the birth of the simple light_

_In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm_

_Out of the whinnying green stable_ _On to the fields of praise._

_And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house_

_Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,_

_In the sun born over and over,_

_I ran my heedless ways,_

_My wishes raced through the house high hay_

_And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows_

_In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs_ _Before the children green and golden_

_Follow him out of grace,_

_Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me_

_Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,_

_In the moon that is always rising,_

_Nor that riding to sleep_ _I should hear him fly with the high fields_

_And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land._

_Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,_

_Time held me green and dying_

_Though I sang in my chains like the sea. (-Dylan Thomas, "Fern Hill.")_

"That was beautiful." She turned the book in his hands. "Dylan Thomas?"

"Yes, his words keep calling to me."

"You kept reciting those lines from 'Death Shall Have No Dominion' when you were ill."

"Yes."

"Are you feeling well?"

"I keep thinking of you and the child, living Below."

"And...?"

"I wish you could see you in the sun. I wish to see the sunlight on your hair, sparkling in your eyes. And the baby..."

She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. After a few moments, she began to speak. "When I was a girl, we used to go to a cabin by a lake in Connecticut. There was a place, surrounded by trees and tall grass that I would go to. I called it my secret place. I felt like when I was there, no one in the world knew where I was."

"What did you do there?"

"Sometimes I read. Sometimes I slept. Watched the clouds go by. Mostly, I dreamed and thought, childish and girlish dreams."

"I know. I did that at the Falls or the Mirror Pool."

"Sometimes, if I was very still, deer would walk by and never see me. I felt magical."

"Hmm." Vincent closed his eyes and leaned back against the sofa.

"I wish you could see it."

"I do see it. Your description takes me there."

"No, Vincent. Really see it. I wish we could go there."

"I do too."

They sat in silence for a few moments. "Maybe it is possible."

"Oh, Catherine, no. I don't want to disappoint you. Don't dream an impossible dream."

"Why impossible?" Her mind was racing. "The only difficult part would be getting out of the city. No one is ever up there this time of year."

"Catherine," he said firmly.

"Vincent, I want to show this to you. No one else is there. You and I could walk, in the sun."

"Catherine," he said softer.

"Please, Vincent. Let me try to arrange it. Let me just try."

He looked at her, her eyes shining with possibility, pleading for his consent. She had given him so much – a child, his own life back. How could he deny her this one thing? "All right. If you can arrange it, I will go with you."

Her face broke into that breath-taking smile she only gave him. "Thank-you!" She fell into his arms and squeezed him tightly. He laughed at her exuberance and squeezed her back.

After a moment, he pulled away. "I should go. You need your rest and I must return before it gets light."

"I want to come Below tomorrow."

"I need to help Mouse and Kanin and the others tomorrow. I'll have Jamie or one of the children meet you at your entrance."

"Noon?"

"All right."

"Come to your chamber when you are finished. I'll be waiting for you there."

They stood up and walked to the balcony doors. "Don't come out. It is too cold for you." He put on his cloak and began to put up the hood. She stayed his hands.

"Vincent," she whispered. Her small hands cupped his face. "I love you, so." She pulled his face to hers and kissed his brow gently.

He straightened and looked at her. He then took her hand and brought it to his lips. "And I you, Catherine."

"Good-night," she whispered as he disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's**__**Note:**_Here's my next installment. Sorry to leave you all at a bit of a cliff hanger!

Chapter 9

"Absolutely not. I forbid it!"

"I did not come for your permission, Father."

"Vincent, you cannot do this!"

"If it is possible, then I will." Vincent turned and left the chamber, his cloak whipping around him. He stalked off to his own room, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

Vincent entered his chamber and began looking for his satchel. He flung it out of his trunk and threw it on the table. He went to the dresser and pulled out some clothes. He stalked back to the table and shoved them inside. He stomped over to the bookshelf and selected a book and was going back to the table when a movement at the doorway drew his eye. He stopped and saw Samantha standing there. He sighed and put the book gently on the table. "Come in Samantha," he said quietly.

The young girl entered slowly. She was shy, but learning to be more bold. She could hold her own against the boys her age in the Tunnels. She had connected to Vincent since she had been found 3 years ago. She especially loved his literature classes. Her wide eyes took in the satchel on the table and the things half-way in and out of it. "Are you leaving, Vincent?"

"A short trip, yes, Samantha." He sat in his chair and beckoned to the girl to come closer. She walked the rest of the way and snuggled in the curve of his arm.

"Are you going away forever?"

"No, of course not. This is my home. You are part of my family. I would never leave you forever."

"I heard..."

"You heard me and Father arguing?"

She nodded.

"Father is upset because he does not want me to take this trip."

"Where are you going?"

"Catherine wants to take me to a special place from her childhood. Father is worried that is too dangerous for me."

"Is it?"

"It is different, but Catherine and I will be very careful. She worries too and will be sure it is safe."

"You love her, don't you, Vincent."

"Yes."

"Are you going to live with her Above?"

"I cannot; you know that. She may come here, Below, though. How would that be?"

"Would she still bring us candy?"

Vincent chuckled deep in his chest. "I'm sure she will."

The next morning, Vincent went to some of the outer Tunnels. New chambers were being finished and he was to help with putting in doorways and shelves. Kanin, Cullen and Mouse had fleshed out the new rooms. There were more and more residents Below and new families being formed. More space was needed.

Catherine had spent her morning making lists and phone calls. The morning went quickly and she was surprised to see that it was 11:30. She quickly dressed and went to the basement. She quietly made her way to the entrance concealed behind old boxes and a storage cabinet. Looking around one last time, she moved the boxes and went through the doorway, pulling the boxes back in place behind her. She climbed slowly and carefully down the ladder and went through the shaft of light. She stepped through the broken brick wall and looked around. "Hello?" she called.

Samantha stepped into sight. "Hi, Miss Catherine."

"Hello, Samantha. Were you waiting long?"

"Nope." They began making their way down to the inhabited tunnels. Shyly, Samantha looked up at the woman who had captured her surrogate parent's heart. "Vincent says you are taking him away."

Catherine paused. "We are thinking of taking a trip. I would never take him away forever."

"I know," Samantha said quietly. They walked a little more. "You helped him when he was sick."

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes." Catherine continued walking, looking straight ahead.

"Me too." Catherine looked down at the child at her side. She felt like a gauntlet had been tossed between them.

Once they were close to the "home" Tunnels, Samantha left Catherine and went off to her chores. Catherine peaked in Vincent's chamber, but it was empty. She walked down the hallway to Father's library. He was sitting at his table, writing.

"Hello, Father," Catherine said cheerfully. Since her own father had died and all they had been through with Vincent's illness and the baby, she had begun to care for him as her own father.

"Ah, Catherine," Father said shortly.

Frowning, Catherine went down the metal staircase and stood across the table from him. "Is something wrong, Father?"

"Vincent told me of your hare-brained travel plans."

"Oh," she said. She sat opposite him at the table.

"Are you both mad? Do you have any idea of what could go wrong? It is much too dangerous!"

"Father, I love Vincent. I would never do anything to endanger him."

"Taking him out of the city? To a cabin on a lake? For a walk in the sunlight? You would risk so much for such a little thing?"

"I think the risk is minimal. And a walk in the sunlight is no little thing; not for Vincent."

"But why now? He is just recovered. You are pregnant."

"Father, we have decided that I will come Below. But, we have not discussed anything else. I put it off until I was finished at work and as Vincent continued his recovery. But now, we have much to decide. We need to talk."

"Then talk here!"

"We need to be away."

"Then go somewhere Below."

"Father - " Catherine paused, seeing Vincent's shadow in the doorway.

"Father," Vincent said quietly. "Catherine and I need time together, alone. She wishes for me to see this place. I wish to see it. This trip will meet our needs and we will return, stronger and more confident." Vincent entered the room and walked to Catherine, taking her hand. "Our journey to each other has been convoluted, at best. In some ways we have gone so far; but in others, we haven't taken a step."

"Father, we will plan so very carefully. We won't leave anything to chance. Let me tell you more about this place, then you'll see."

Father leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his forehead. "I just worry so, Vincent. I nearly lost you – so many times. And now, you are better. You have found someone to love. My God! You are having a baby! And now, you are running off into the sunlight. It is too much for an old man like me."

"Father, you've raised me well. And now, you must let me live. And if I make mistakes, your teaching will help me to correct them." Vincent left Catherine and walked to his father. He grasped his shoulder and Father looked up at his son. "It will be well."

Father turned to Catherine. She smiled quietly. "All right. Go then! And get Catherine some lunch. She is starting to look green."

Instantly, Vincent's eyes were on his beloved. She shook her head a little. "I am a little hungry."

"Will you join us?" Catherine asked.

"No, I need to finish here. I'll be along in a little while. Go on."

"Father?" Vincent asked quietly.

"I'm fine, Vincent. Go on." Father nodded towards Catherine. She got up and walked to Vincent and they left the room hand in hand. Father leaned back in his chair and sighed.

Chapter 10

Mary found Father sitting in his chair an hour later, looking at the ceiling of his chamber, his eyes shiny. She had spoken to Catherine and Vincent in the dining chamber and knew what had transpired. She had a feeling she knew what was really going on in Father's head.

"Father?" she called quietly, not meaning to startle him.

Father jerked his head up and quickly passed his hand over his eyes. "Yes, Mary," he cleared his throat. "What may I do for you?" He busied himself with the papers in front of him.

"I brought you some lunch." She carried in the sandwich and teapot and set them on his table. "I spoke to Vincent."

"Well, what do you think, then?"

"I think that no matter where he wanted to go, you would disapprove." Father frowned at her. "It isn't that he wants to get away for a bit. It is that he has grown up and you don't want him to."

"I know he is an adult," Father began to bluster.

Mary held up her hand. "Yes, you know it. But unlike most children, he has not left home. He is living in the same chamber he shared with Devin as a child. He sees you every day, he looks to you for advice and employment. You have never 'cut the apron strings,' Father."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to let him go. He needs to make a new life, a new family, with Catherine. It happens all the time here, and I have often heard you advising other parents. You've never had to let Vincent go."

"Until now."

"Until now," Mary repeated.

"Ah, Mary." Father rubbed his eyes with both hands. "When did you become so wise?"

"We all have had a good teacher, Father." She patted his shoulder. "Eat your lunch. Then, talk with Vincent. Your disapproval hurts him."

"Maybe he is right. Maybe it is too dangerous."

Vincent sat in the large chair in his chamber, his head back, eyes closed. Catherine stood behind him and bowed her head at his words.

"Perhaps," she whispered.

"If the slightest thing were to go wrong... If anyone were to see us; to see _me_..."

"It could ruin everything," she answered.

"Yes."

Quietly, Father entered the chamber. "Then, by that logic, you should never go Above again. You should never go to Catherine's balcony, walk in the park at night, or wander the streets, helping the lost and forgotten. We should all just hole up here, underneath the city and never go out again. We should just hide here, in fear, afraid of what might happen."

"Father?" Catherine looked at him confused. Vincent sat up and looked at him as well. Father walked to the two of them and took Vincent's hand.

"I've been so afraid of what could go wrong that I won't even try. And time and again, the two of you have proven me wrong. I will worry every moment you're away, as I always do. But, if you still wish to go, I won't object."

Catherine caught Father's eye and spoke quietly. "Father, I understand your concerns because they are also mine. I won't undertake this without careful planning. If it won't work, we won't go. If Vincent has any concerns, we won't go."

Father took Catherine's hand as well. "Thank-you, my dear."

"Thank-you, Father, " Vincent said quietly.

Father straightened up and let go of their hands. "I suppose you two have much to discuss. I'll leave you in peace."

"Father," Catherine called after him. He turned back to her. "Thank-you." She knew that in a way, he was turning Vincent's care over to her. She knew what a gift it was and how difficult it was for him to give it. She hoped her simple words of gratitude emphasized all of that.

Chapter 11

A week later, just after midnight, early on a Saturday morning, a black van with tinted windows sped away from the city. Catherine talked to Vincent as she drove the dark highways north to her family's cabin by the lake. He said little, but she needed to talk. She was tired and nervous and so he let her talk.

"My grandfather gave the land to my mother when she married my father. They built a little cabin on it near the lake and spent their first anniversary there."

"A delayed honeymoon?" Vincent smiled in the dark.

"I suppose. It is very isolated – five miles from the nearest town and I don't think anyone has built anything closer. It is small, too - just one bedroom, but it is cozy and has beautiful views over the lake. I remember waking up and watching the sun rise over the water. I slept on the sofa in the main room. The only time I ever saw my father cook was at the cabin. He doted on my mother there. He would make her pancakes."

"You must have been quite the 'third wheel' Catherine."

She smiled in the dark. "I guess so, but I didn't realize it then. I was too young."

"What happened after your mother died? Did you and your father continue to go there?"

"Not at first. We didn't go back until I was fourteen. He gave me the bedroom and he took the couch. I cooked for him. He never slept in that room or cooked in that kitchen again."

Vincent was quiet as Catherine drove on in silence. "The last time he was there was when I graduated from law school. We took the weekend, just the two of us. He asked me to join his firm then. We walked in the woods and talked about how it would be – Chandler and Chandler, leaders of corporate law. He wanted me to be a partner, but I left before that happened. He was upset at first; everything about me seemed so different to him. But, once we sat down and talked about it, he didn't seem surprised that I wanted to go to the DA's office. He said it was my mother in me."

"Will you miss practicing law?"

"I don't know. I'm looking forward to spending more time with you. As you've said, our relationship has been moments, stolen here and there. I want more than that, Vincent. If quitting my job and coming Below gives it to me, to us, then it is worth it."

"You may find our world boring after the fast-paced life you lived Above."

"I may find it to be exactly what I need. Besides - "

"What, Catherine?"

"Well, I've been thinking," she said as she exited the freeway and turned on to a quieter road.

"What?"

"Most of the people who come Below could probably use some legal advice."

"That is true. Most are running from something and don't have or cannot afford the help they need. Often, our Helpers could use help as well."

"Then, maybe I could work in some sort of law practice between caring for you and raising our baby."

Vincent smiled in the dark. "I like that."

"What?"

"You caring for me and raising our baby. I never thought it could happen for me."

Catherine smiled too. "We'll care for each other. Now, let me drive. I nearly always miss this turn in the daylight. I'll probably drive right past it in the dark."

Vincent settled back in silence and let her drive. His vision allowed him to see in the dark and he watched as darkened houses turned into trees and forest. They crossed a river and he heard the trickle of water. There was still snow on the ground and he could feel the air getting thinner as they ascended into the mountains. Then, there was a clearing and a small lake emerged from the trees. On the far edge stood a small cabin. The road skirted the lake. It looked mostly frozen to Vincent, but he couldn't be sure. Catherine maneuvered the car to the back of the cabin and parked.

"I think I'll park in the back, just to be on the safe side." Catherine stopped the car and turned off the ignition. She turned and looked at him. "Do you see anyone?"

Vincent raised his head and listened as well as looked. Slowly, he opened the car door and stepped out. He turned around in a full circle. "We are alone."

Catherine smiled and emerged from the vehicle and went to the back. She opened the trunk and removed her over-night bag. Vincent came to her and took out the two bags of groceries and supplies and his own satchel. She closed the trunk and locked the car. She led the way along a snow-covered path to the front of the cabin. There was a small covered porch with a door flanked by two windows. There was a pile of wood on the porch near the door.

Catherine went to the door and opened it with the key on her ring. "I asked the care-taker to turn on the generator and bring up some firewood. Come in. Welcome to Chandler Cabin," she smiled.

Vincent entered the door, his fluffy head of hair just brushing the door jamb. Catherine moved ahead of him and turned on a light over a kitchen sink on the far side of the large room they had entered in. "Give me the groceries," she said as he stood looking around.

The room they were in seemed to take up about one-third of the entire cabin. Near the door was a fireplace, a small sofa and chair and a kitchen table with two chairs. Along the back wall was a small stove, sink and refrigerator with cabinets above. There was a small window over the sink and a larger one over the sofa. There was a closed door next to the fireplace. Catherine saw him looking over her shoulder as she unpacked the grocery bag. "The bedroom is in there," she said. "Would you take my bag in?" He put the other sack of supplies on the table and opened the door.

The other room was nearly filled with a double bed and dresser under the window. There was a door next to the bed that went to a small bathroom. Vincent set their bags on the bed and went back to Catherine. "This is delightful," he said. She smiled at him and continued with the groceries. "What can I do?"

"Can you start the fire? There is no other heat." Vincent went back to the porch and brought in an armful of wood. He set it down and began to kindle a fire. Catherine finished in the kitchen and went to the sack on the table and pulled out candles, tapers and some matches. She began to scatter the fat candles around the living room and handed the matches to Vincent. He lit the fire and then lit a taper. Catherine sank on to the sofa as he lit three candles that she had put on the mantle. She held out her hand and he came and sat beside her on the sofa. She snuggled up against him and his arms went around her automatically.

"Are you well?" he asked her.

"Mmm. I'm getting warmer."

"You must be tired. It was a long day and a long drive."

"I am tired, but I'm still kind of keyed up."

"I brought some books. Should I read to you?"

"Would you be too uncomfortable if I changed first and got tucked into bed?"

Vincent was glad she couldn't see his face, because, despite being more comfortable with her physically, this thought did embarrass him. He took a deep breath and inhaled the delightful scent of her hair. "No, my love. I would not be too uncomfortable."

Catherine rose and entered the bedroom. She removed a few things from her bag and went to the bathroom and closed the door. Vincent took another deep breath and rose from the sofa. He removed his cloak and laid it over one of the kitchen chairs. He added another large log to the well-burning fire, estimating that it would last until early morning. He debated undressing, but worried that she would emerge unexpectedly. He pulled out his nightshirt and a book of poetry from his satchel and set it next to the dresser. He looked out the window at the night. He had never been to a forest other than Central Park and he itched to go explore it. But, Catherine needed him and he needed her. He turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening. She came out dressed in a light-blue nightgown and robe. "All yours," she said with a smile. Then her brow crinkled. "Do you - "

"I'll manage, Catherine."

"Of course," she blushed. After the door closed behind him, she went to the front room and brought in the candles that were still burning on the mantle. She could tell he had fixed the fire for the night so she placed the candles on one side of the bed and began to turn down the covers. It was her turn to look up at the sound of the door opening. Vincent wore his nightshirt and robe, familiar to her from his convalescence. His cheeks looked suspiciously rosy in the dim light of the candles, but she made no comment. "Which side do you want?"

He looked at her quizzically. "Of the bed. I usually sleep on the left, but that is the side that is closer to my balcony. Do you have a preference?"

"I thought I would sleep on the sofa."

"Why?"

"Well, I..." He looked at his feet.

"Vincent, your child grows within me. Surely, we can sleep in the same bed. Besides, the cabin is still too cold. I'll freeze in here alone."

"The right."

"Pardon?"

"I prefer to sleep on the right side of the bed."

Chapter 12

Catherine sat up in the bed and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back. She looked up and saw Vincent in the doorway with the sun coming in behind him. She blushed a little and looked down.

"Good morning," he said. He had not fully dressed, but was just wearing his long shirt loose over his trousers.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"A few moments. I saw you waken." He walked over and touched her cheek. He slid his hand through her hair and down her neck. He leaned down and touched her belly. "When you stretched just now, it seemed like you had grown."

She looked down at his hand on her and clasped it. "Yes. I have. Peter estimated that I was 6-8 weeks along at that first appointment. Last week, just a month later, he measured me at 14 weeks."

"Twins?" Vincent's eyes widened in alarm.

"No, there is only one." She kissed his cheek. "Don't worry so, Vincent. You said it yourself: we are something that has never been before. Our child is unique. He is growing faster than Peter would expect, but he seems healthy. And so am I."

"'He?'" Vincent cocked his head at her.

"I have a feeling." She smiled.

He shifted so he was sitting beside her on the bed and continued to caress her stomach. She leaned back on her arms and enjoyed his touch. She could tell he was troubled by something. Patient, she waited for him to speak.

"I wish..."

"What, Vincent?" she asked gently.

"I wish I could remember."

"Remember what?"

"That night." They looked at each other meaningfully. "My memory is nearly completely restored, but that night remains absent from mind. In fact, from the time of Paracelsus's death until I awoke in my chamber remains fuzzy. But that night is entirely gone."

"It was the worst night and the best night of my life."

"Worst? Did I...? Did I hurt you, Catherine?"

"Your pain hurt me. I was so frightened for you. Father was worried about the strain of it all on your heart. I didn't know what I would find in there." She reached out and ran her hand over his shoulder. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"You saved me, Catherine."

"You saved me."

"I still wish..."

"I do too."

"Would you...? When I couldn't remember your name, you told me. Would you tell me...what happened...that night?" Vincent bowed his head as his cheeks flushed.

"No." His head came up suddenly.

"No?"

"No. I'd rather show you."

At her words, his heart began to pound so hard he swore she could hear it. He stood and walked to the window, needing to put a bit of distance between them. He squinted at the sun. "I do not think that would be wise, Catherine. The baby..."

"Will be fine. Didn't you read that book Peter gave us?"

"I-"

She climbed out of bed and stood behind him. "I remember that night constantly. I'm glad our Bond has not fully returned. If you knew my thoughts, you would be in a perpetual state of embarrassment."

He continued to squint at the window. "You said it was also the best night of your life."

She took his arm and turned him to face her. "It was magical." He looked down at her and pushed her hair off her forehead. "Vincent, I would give you anything. I've trusted you with my life, with everything, for some time now."

"I know," he said quietly, continuing to stroke her hair. Catherine put her hands on his waist.

"I would do anything for you."

"I know," he repeated. He brought up his other hand and cupped her face in his large, clawed hands.

"Anything," she whispered.

"I know, Catherine," he whispered again. He moved his face closer to hers and felt her soft breath on his face. Her eyelids fluttered closed. She tightened her fingers in his shirt as he came closer still and gently kissed her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

I'm sorry for keeping you in suspense for so long. This was a hard chapter to write. I wanted to stay true to the original series but I want so much for these characters. You may notice bits of "A Happy LIfe" and "A Fair and Perfect Knight" in there. Thanks for sticking with me. I hope you enjoy this section.

Chapter 13

It was Heaven. Her breath, the softness of her lips, her hands kneading the fabric of his shirt so it tightened over his stomach and chest was more than he had ever dreamed. And, oh, how he had dreamed. Their lips pressed together for what felt like ages when finally, he broke the kiss on her lips and began to scatter kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her forehead.

"Vincent," she whispered. He moved back slightly and looked down at her. Her lips were quivering and her breaths were coming in short pants. "Oh, Vincent," she whispered again. He felt that heat and tightness in his gut that had so often precluded violence in his past, but he felt no fear, no anxiety. He realized now, that what he was feeling was passion, desire, lust.

"Catherine," he growled low in his throat and he claimed her lips again, pulling her closer to his body, lifting her up off the floor. She moaned a little in her throat and raised her arms as he lifted her, clamping them around his neck. As he kissed her, she opened her mouth a little, and traced the broken line of his upper lip with her tongue.

"Miss Chandler!" A voice suddenly rang through the morning as a loud knocking broke through the lovely haze enveloping the two lovers. Vincent straightened, dropping Catherine to her feet as his head came up, instantly alert.

"Who is that?"

"I - " Catherine wasn't fully back in her head yet.

"Miss Chandler! Good morning!"

"Catherine?" Vincent looked panicked.

Catherine squinted her eyes shut and shook her head. "It is the care-taker." She moved away from him, pulled on her robe and stepped into her slippers. "Coming!" she called. "Stay in here," she whispered to Vincent. "I'm sure he is just checking to make sure I'm well."

Vincent nodded and went into the bathroom, partially closing the door. Catherine flipped her hair from under the collar of her robe and went to the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Granger."

"Did I wake you, Miss Chandler? I'm so sorry."

"It is all right. I didn't leave the city until late. I was having a bit of a 'lie in' this morning."

"Oh, I won't be a moment then. Did you find everything to your liking?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. I also wanted to know how long you thought you'd be here?"

"I'm not sure. A few days. Why?"

"There is a big storm predicted for tonight or tomorrow. Probably just rain, but this time of year, could be a blizzard. I wanted to be sure you'd be all right if it does come."

"I think so. I have food and you've provided plenty of firewood. I should be fine."

"All right then. Enjoy your time here."

"Thank-you. I'll stop by town on my way home and let you know I've left."

"Very good. Have a good morning, Miss Chandler."

"You too, Mr. Granger." Catherine closed the door and leaned against it as Vincent emerged fully dressed from the bedroom. "I'm so sorry, Vincent. I forgot he usually comes over to check on me the day after I'm due to arrive."

"It is fine, Catherine. I'm glad he looks after you. I would worry if you were here alone. It comforts me to know that if you are ever here without me, there is someone to care for you."

"That is not all that I'm sorry about."

"I know that too." They stood looking deeply at each other's eyes. When Catherine felt her breath quicken, Vincent shook his head. "We should go for our walk soon then, if it is going to snow."

"Yes." Catherine took a deep breath. "Yes, you are right. I'll get dressed and then make some breakfast. We can take a picnic."

An hour later, dressed warmly and fed, the two opened the door to the cabin. Vincent looked out, listening intently for any signs of other people. "He's gone and I have no sense of any others."

"Come on then!" Catherine took his hand and nearly pulled him off the porch. "It is this way."

They followed a muddy path along the lakeside until it turned into the trees. They weren't anywhere near Catherine's special place, but already Vincent was in a state of bliss. He tried to be aware of signs of other people, lest they be discovered, but he soon gave up as he gave in to the sense of wonder encompassing him. Catherine looked up at him in delight. She knew he needed this.

Suddenly, in a small clearing in the woods with the dappled sun falling on them, Vincent stopped.

"Catherine," he said reverently. "Your hair. The sunlight in your hair is so beautiful." He looked up at the trees and the sky and then back to her. "The colors – it is like a different world."

"It is a different world, Vincent. Now you can understand my awe and delight when I first came Below. Everything is different and it all changes as the sun sets and night falls. Isn't it amazing?"

They walked quietly for nearly an hour, through the shade of the forest. "It is just up here," she whispered. They came upon a small grove of trees with tall grasses growing in-between the trunks. Catherine parted the grasses and stepped in. There, hidden in the trees was a circle of short grass filled with sunlight, as long in diameter as Vincent was tall. He followed her in and then stopped short and smiled. Catherine had raised her face to the sun and was walking in a circle with her arms outstretched.

"Welcome home." Vincent's voice was full of emotion.

"Welcome to you too." She pulled him by both hands to the very center and kissed his lips. "I'm so glad you could see this."

He pulled her close and kissed her again. "Thank-you."

Chapter 14

Catherine and Vincent laid an oilcloth down and then their blanket. The ground was cold, but it was not too wet. She had packed a snack more than anything – bread, cheese, fruit and a flask of hot tea. Mostly, Catherine ate as Vincent was preoccupied with the sunlight, the few returning birds, the browns and yellows of the forest, the blue sky. She smiled at him; his fascination was exciting to see, like a blind man who can suddenly see.

"Vincent, are you hungry?" She began to put up the picnic things. "Vincent?"

"I'm absolutely fine, Catherine," he murmured, looking up at the mountains framing a puffy white cloud.

Catherine laughed quietly and put the basket to the side. She laid down on her back and looked up at the sky. She closed her eyes as the sun moved out from behind a cloud and fell on her face. Vincent leaned over on one arm and stroked her cheek gently. "You are so beautiful." Her smile deepened and a flush reddened her cheeks. "Thank-you for taking me here. Thank-you for helping me over-come my fears."

"You're welcome, Vincent," she sighed without opening her eyes. He smiled himself and continued stroking her face. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, then her gaze shifted to the sky above them. "Lay down, Vincent," she said suddenly. "Look at the clouds."

Vincent laid down with he head next to Catherine's. She pointed up. "That one looks like Father," she said. It was a large puffy cloud in the shape of a man with a beard. There were grey tinges to it as well, giving him a scowl.

"Yes, when Mouse does something of which Father disapproves," Vincent smiled. They pointed out cloud shapes to each other for a little bit. Then, Vincent noticed that Catherine had gotten quiet. He turned and looked at her. She had closed her eyes and was breathing deeply and quietly. She was asleep. Vincent kissed her cheek softly and then just watched as the sunlight and shadows played across her face.

He was bending down to kiss her again when she suddenly opened her eyes. She startled. "Shhh," he whispered against her cheek. "Are you cold?"

"Mmmm. A little."

"Do you want to walk a bit? I'd like to see more trees."

"Okay."

They rose and gathered their things and made their way deeper into the woods. But, before they ventured from their hideaway, Vincent stood still and looked and listened for other people. There was no one. They were the only two people in this magical forest. They walked deeper into the woods, and the branches began to obscure the sky. The trees had changed from deciduous to pine and it became darker. The air smelled wet and loamy and dark.

"It is almost like the deeper tunnels, near the streams or the Mirror Pool," Vincent whispered. He was holding her hand and looking at everything.

"Yes, but with more wild life. Look." Catherine pointed with her eyes to a squirrel high up in a tree. It noticed them and began to chatter. It stopped scolding them suddenly and disappeared higher up into a nest hidden among the branches. Catherine's eyes followed it up and then looked higher, searching for the sky among the branches of the trees. "Vincent?"

"Yes," he answered looking at the squirrel's nest with wondering eyes.

"I think the sun is gone."

"What?"

"That storm Mr. Granger spoke of?" He nodded at her. "I think it is coming."

"We must return."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We shouldn't be caught in a storm."

They turned back the way they had come. Vincent thought he caught a sense of panic from Catherine, but as he focused on it, trying to evaluate it (was it the Bond?) it disappeared and so he sought her heartbeat. It seemed faster than normal.

"Are you well, Catherine?" He caught her hand in his free one and squeezed it gently.

"I'm fine." She looked around distractedly.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure where we are is all. I'm sure as we get closer to my hideaway, it will become more familiar. Don't worry."

They continued walking in what Catherine thought was the way they had come. The mystery of the forest that had first seemed so romantic and beautiful became foreboding with the darkening of the sky. Suddenly, Catherine stopped and let go of Vincent's hand. She turned in a full circle, looking, with her hand to her mouth.

"Catherine?"

"I'm just not sure, Vincent."

"I remember reading that moss grows on the north side of a tree."

"Yes, but I'm not sure if we need to go north or south. I'm not sure where the lake is. We started out going north, but we've taken so many twists and turns since we left the hideaway that I'm not sure where to go. Do you have any sense?"

"I do not."

"Then, I think I need to climb a tree."

"What?"

"I need to find the lake. I can't see it through all these trees. I need to go higher." She was taking off her coat at the base of a particularly tall pine tree, preparing to climb it.

"You shall not climb that tree."

"Vincent, I've climbed countless trees."

"But you're..." He couldn't say it.

"Pregnant, Vincent. I'm pregnant, not lame."

"But your sense of balance? Won't you be a bit off kilter?"

"Do you want to do it? Have you ever climbed a tree?"

"I've climbed rocks. I climb the side of your building."

"You climb that? Vincent, that is eighteen stories! You'd be killed if you fell. I thought you took the elevator."

"Catherine, I will climb the tree. Hold my cloak."

In an instant, he had jumped to the lowest branch of a different tree than she had selected and began to swiftly climb. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized he had jumped up nearly 10 feet from a stand-still. "He must be completely well," she thought.

He sensed her erratic heart rate and paused. "Catherine?"

"I'm fine." Catherine took a deep breath to try to clear her thoughts and calm herself. "Tell me when you see the lake." She watched as he climbed higher and higher.

"I see it! It is that way."

Catherine looked at the direction he pointed and then oriented herself, using the moss at the base of the tree. "All right. I know which way to go now. You can come down." He looked very small at the top of the tree. "Vincent?" Suddenly, Catherine heard a sound she only rarely had heard. Vincent was laughing, a hearty, full belly laugh.

"Catherine!" he gasped. "This is amazing!" And he laughed out loud again.

Catherine smiled and then laughed too, looking at Vincent laughing at the top of a pine tree.

Chapter 15

It had taken longer than she thought. They had gone further into the forest than she had realized, looking at different types of trees, dead leaves and grasses and signs of wildlife. It was getting dark when they finally arrived at the cabin. Catherine was cold, but she was trying not to show it. The clouds had thickened and the wind had picked up; snowflakes were starting to fall thick and fast. Vincent knew she was cold, but also knew she didn't want him to know. He didn't say anything, but every now and then, he would put his arm around her shoulders or her waist and try to support her. There were both glad to see the cabin's outline in the distance.

Catherine opened the door and nearly collapsed on the sofa. Vincent had paused on the porch to gather more firewood. In a few minutes, he had the fire roaring. "Catherine, you should change out of those wet clothes." The snow had melted into her hair and coat.

"Not yet." She huddled on the floor near the fireplace. "You go ahead." She looked up at him. His cloak was wet as well and the snow had melted into his mane, which was also tangled with pine needles from his sojourn in the tree. She smiled a little. "You are a mess. I'll need to comb all of that out of your hair."

He took off his cloak and laid it over a chair to dry. "Come on." He held out his hands and pulled her to her feet. His fingers worked at unbuttoning her coat and then pulled it off her shoulders. He stopped and held it to his chest, stunned at the intimate act he had just performed without thinking. Catherine turned to the fire and held her hands out to the heat.

"Your shoes are soaked through," she whispered.

Vincent cleared his throat and laid her coat on the other chair. "Your's are too." He knelt at her feet and began untying the laces of her boots. She balanced herself by holding on to his shoulders and let him pull the boots and her wet socks off her feet. "Catherine, your feet are like ice!" he exclaimed. He set her things aside and began to rub her feet. Catherine sat down heavily and sighed at the sensation. "Your pants are wet to the knees. Go change. Now. And take a hot shower. You'll catch your death."

"You should ask Father. That's an old wives' tale. Viruses make you sick, not wet feet."

"You are cold."

"So are you," she challenged him.

"All right, I am. You change first and then I will. I'll build up the fire some more and we can sit near it."

"You'll hold me?" Catherine seemed remorseful suddenly.

"Of course." He took her in his arms in an instant. "You don't have to hide things from me. If you were cold or tired, I would have carried you."

"Vincent, that is ridiculous. I am perfectly capable of walking."

"I know. I also know that some women who are carrying children in the Tunnels seem to tire more easily. You have nothing to prove to me, Catherine. I know how strong you are."

"You don't have to hide anything from me, either." She pulled back and looked at his face, until he turned away.

"I know."

"I'll go change now, Vincent. Then, I'll heat up dinner. William sent some of his beef and barley soup."

"That will be perfect. While you are changing, I'll bring in more firewood."

Chapter 16

Vincent sat on the floor with his back braced against the sofa, his long legs extended towards the fire. Catherine sat nestled at his side, curled up around the bump in her abdomen that was their baby. She had brought pillows and blankets in from the bedroom and they had created a nest near the fire. It was still cold, but the little cabin was beginning to warm. They had heated and eaten William's soup and Vincent had made a pot of tea. The wind was howling, rattling the windows, but they were safe and warm inside. Vincent absently stroked Catherine's hair, staring into the fire. Her voice startled him, as he had thought she had fallen asleep at his side.

"We need to talk."

Vincent sighed. "Yes, we do."

"Where to begin?" They both smiled. Catherine sat up and looked at him, deep into his piercingly blue eyes. "You do know, don't you, that when I speak of living Below, I mean with you."

Vincent's eyes widened. "I don't want a guest-chamber, Vincent," she went on. "I want to raise this child with you, but more importantly, I want to be with you. I'm tired of stolen moments here and there. You and I have both been alone too long. We need to be together. You are so strong, but we are even stronger together. I've wondered, sometimes, while you've been recovering, if you have put too much of a strain on yourself, trying to do it all alone."

"What do you mean?" He had turned his face from hers and was staring at the fire again.

"I mean," she sighed and ran her hands over her face and through her hair. "Everyone struggles, Vincent, with right and wrong, desires and passions. You don't need to struggle alone. You can talk to me about anything. You can express anything to me. I'll understand."

"I have Father."

"And the relationship you have with Father is amazing, but he is not a lover; not an equal."

He looked at her questioningly. "You can tell him about your fears, maybe even some of your baser desires, but you cannot express them, the way you can with a partner in life. You will always look up to him, as a parent, and may want to hold things back so as not disappoint him." Vincent nodded. "But with me? You can tell me anything."

"No, Catherine, I cannot. Some things...I can't tell anyone. There are parts of me that...I cannot let anyone know."

"Why are you so ashamed of who you are?"

Vincent rose in an instant and began to pace the width of the room, fireplace to window and back to the fireplace. He seemed agitated and Catherine began to worry that perhaps it was not the time for this discussion.

"Vincent, I love you. All of you."

He stopped at the fireplace and leaned on the mantle, looking into the flames. "But, I am not..."

"Not what? Deserving? Able to be loved?"

"I am not a complete...man."

"Whatever do you mean?"

He turned suddenly and strode to where she remained sitting. He reached down, grasped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet. He held his hands up in front of her. "_Look_ at me, Catherine!"

She examined him carefully. She knew that this was a source of pain for him and she could not be flippant or quick about her answer. She raised her hands and ran them through his tangled mane of long golden hair. She looked into his deep blue eyes; she ran gentle fingers over his brow, his flattened nose covered with short hairs, across his cleft upper lip and touched his fangs peeking from underneath. She lowered her hands to his shoulders and ran them down his arms to his hands and took them in hers. She raised them up and examined the fur-covered backs and claws and then turned them over to the hairless skin with rough callouses on the palms. Her eyes fell from his hands to his trim waist, down his muscled legs to his bare feet covered with fur and clawed as well. She raised her eyes back to his and squeezed his hands.

"I see the man that I love," she said quietly in a strong voice.

He tried to pull away from her. "Catherine," he said, exasperated.

She squeezed his hands tighter and wouldn't let him go. "You _are_ the man that I love."

Her words were familiar to him. He had said them to her shortly after he had awoken and the amnesia was so thick in his brain. He couldn't remember his chamber, his father or even her name. But, he knew that she was the woman he loved.

"Vincent, I am not blind to your differences. You are a unique man to be sure. But you are a man. You are _my_ man." She shook his hands in her's a bit and squeezed him tighter still.

He raised his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes. "All my life, I have been told that I am different. And, I must be careful – my hands, my teeth, my strength. I have been admonished, over and over, to be careful and that if I am ever caught Above I would be experimented on and then killed. And my capture could expose the whole world Below." He swallowed deeply. "And now, here you are, standing here, telling me that you love me, all of me?"

"I've told you this for years, Vincent. You have dismissed my feelings for years."

"When you first saw me, I frightened you."

"You startled me."

"I frightened you."

"I thought I was alone. I would have startled if Father had come in."

Vincent swallowed deeply again and took a deep breath. "Sometimes, my feelings are...not those of a man."

"Tell me these feelings."

He firmly, but gently, pulled his hands from her's and turned away. "I cannot."

Catherine stepped to him and tentatively put her hands on his back. "This is what I meant. Thoughts and feelings that you have, that may confuse you or embarrass you – you can tell me Vincent. I accept everything about you."

"How can you?"

"Because I love you. I - "

He started to step away from her touch and she wrapped her arms around him and clung to him. The bump of their baby pressed into his lower back.

"Do you know what I saw in that cave?" He hung his head down, but didn't pull away. "I didn't see a beast roaring in a cave. I saw you, in terrible pain, alone. You were struggling with a great burden and you needed help. You needed my help."

"Catherine," he gasped.

"No, Vincent. You need to hear this." She let go enough to step in front of him so he could see her face. "When Pascal took me and Father to where Mouse huddled, listening to you, I didn't stop. Father stopped me. Even Pascal and Mouse tried to hold me back. They were _afraid_ of you. I wasn't. I knew what was truly going on in that cave. You needed me. And you knew it." Her voice was rising and her words came faster. "You asked Father to send for me before you went Below, before you hid yourself deeper in the Earth. I knew what you needed. You didn't go there to protect me, but to protect the others. You sent for me and you knew I would come for you. Just as you have always come for me when I needed you. Why won't you let your conscious mind accept what your subconscious mind knows? Vincent!"

He opened his eyes and looked at her pale green ones. He studied her, her tousled honey hair, the streaks of tears on her cheeks, her rapid breathing, the desperation on her face. His eyes were teary too, but he took a deep breath and found her hands, clenching his clothes at his chest. "You love me." It wasn't a question.

"It is as simple as that."

They stared at each other for several heartbeats.

"Vincent, you keep pushing me away, telling me that I must live the life I deserve, the life I was born to live. Why can't you see that the only life I want, the only one I deserve, the one I was born to live is the life I can make with you? You are not unworthy of love. You deserve it. You deserve everything."

"You love me," he said simply again.

"Don't be afraid of it."

He ran his thumbs under her eyes, drying her tears and pushed her hair back. "You love me."

"I love you."

"And, I, my sweet Catherine, I love you."

He bent his head to hers and kissed her, firmly without hesitation. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and as he lifted her so he didn't have to bend his neck, she wrapped her legs around his waist and the baby nestled into the hollow just below his chest. He pulled away from her and looked at her green eyes shining in the firelight. "It is simple." He kissed her again and carried her to the bedroom.


End file.
